


What's in a Name?

by VillainousShakespeare



Series: Jack Linden/Jonathan Pine [2]
Category: The Night Manager (TV)
Genre: Angst, Class Fantasies, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, Lust, Oral Sex, Secret Identity, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Smut, The Night Manager - Freeform, Urges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillainousShakespeare/pseuds/VillainousShakespeare
Summary: Richard Roper has been locked up, and Jonathan is ready to reclaim his name and his life. All he has to do is get through one weekend without anyone connecting him to the scandalous events he was involved in. Unfortunately, a chance encounter with an old one night stand who he has been unable to forget leaves him shaken and wanting. And afraid his lust will be his undoing.
Relationships: Jack Linden/Original Female Character, Jonathan Pine/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Jack Linden/Jonathan Pine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133072
Comments: 36
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

Jonathan made his way down the crowded London street, suitcase rolling behind him. He supposed he should have stayed in the town car until it reached the hotel, his character practically demanded as much, but traffic was hellacious and he had found himself going slowly insane as he waited for the auto to creep along. It was much quicker, not to mention nicer, to get out and walk the final stretch to his destination. 

The truth was, he needed the time and the (relatively, it was London after all) fresh air to clear his head. It was important that he keep his mind focused on the task at hand. He was reinstituting himself under his own name, leaving behind the fictions of Andrew Birch, Jack Linden, and all the rest and slipping into a new persona - Jonathan Pine, once night manager, now neuveau riche hotel investor. Angela had set it all up as a way for him to leave behind the chaos and danger of the last year while explaining his absence from the world and his newfound wealth. All it would take now was a convincing performance from him. Once the owners of La Palais accepted his credentials enough to allow him to invest in their exclusive establishment, the rest of the world would follow without question.

He was ready to put it all behind, the time with Roper and his crew. There had been aspects of it that were exciting, and he couldn't deny that he had enjoyed the lifestyle the merciless arms dealer led. His fondness for Jed had also been as genuine as it was unexpected. He had come to care deeply for her, and for Roper's son, two innocents trapped in the pull of a magnetic sociopath. They were safe now, both of them. Danny with his mother and Jed with her son. He had visited her once in New York, to see that she was settled, but that had been enough. Without the ever present danger binding them, they really didn't fit into each other's worlds. They were both a bit relieved when he had boarded the flight back to England. 

He had served his purpose he thought, though not with any bitterness. It seemed that knight errant was just a role he was destined to play, both successfully as in Jed's case, or less so as with his tragic Sophie. Even his ex-wife had begun as a rescue from an abusive boyfriend. There was only once, he thought, one time in all his sexual history where he had not been the savior, the gentleman comforting the damsel in destress. 

Just thinking about that night in a room above a seaside village pub sent a familiar jolt of heat through his veins. His mind, he had noticed, drifted back to it with an alarming regularity. Short, spritely curls, wide, innocent eyes, lips made to suck and kiss, and a body to tempt a saint to sin. Annie Tyler. He had made good use of that body, and those lips during a marathon of passion that had left a deep mark within him. With a sigh he resigned himself to the inevitability of stroking himself off to the photo of her he had captured on his phone the next morning, all he had of the woman who had so moved him with her giving nature.

La Palais, large, gaudy and impossible to miss, loomed up as he rounded the corner, and Jonathan pushed the memories of his night with Annie aside and dressed himself in the mantle of self made aristocracy. It would fit right in with the assumed pretentiousness of this monstrosity of a hotel. A doorman quickly opened the door for him with a bow, and he sauntered into the lobby as if he already owned the place, nodding distantly as he made his way inside.

"Ah, Jonathan, there you are," a performatively bored voice drawled. 

"Charles," he pasted on his charming smile as he shook the man's hand. "So good to see you."

"The pleasure is all mine, old boy," the stuffed shirted man assured him unctuously. "So, this is my beauty. My Palais. What do you think of her, eh?"

"Well, the lobby is grand enough," he said, looking around at the soaring, gilded ceilings and ornate décor. "I'll have a better idea once I've seen more of the place, but it is certainly an impressive start."

"Then let's get you checked in," Charles slapped him on the back. "Reserved the best suit in the place for you, of course. Let you see all we have to offer. Anything you like, just name it."

"And the others?"

"Here tonight. Desperate to meet you. A good influx of cash is just what this place needs to really conquer the market, and you my boy are just the one to provide it. Assuming they all approve of course. You know Michael and Gabriella are sticklers for image - not a breath of scandal much attach to anything they're involved in, the prudes."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he assured the man.

Indeed, it was their well known high moral character that made their endorsement so essential in selling his identity. If they were willing to enter into business with him, surely he could not be in anyway associated with the lurid scandal of Richard Roper and Andrew Birch that had rocked the British establishment. 

"This way, this way," Charles ushered him to the marble countered concierge. "Miss Tyler, my friend here is booked in the Emperor's Suite."

"Jack!"

Jonathan froze as the voice whispered his name, sounding almost like a prayer. The woman behind the counter was staring at him with huge, innocent eyes beneath a wealth of curls, no longer short but not quite long, that he would never forget. 

What the hell was she doing here, in La Palais? Or here in London for that matter? In his mind she was always where he had left her, curled up naked in his bed above the dingy pub, his marks bright on her skin and his cum dried on thighs. Instead, she was standing behind a marble counter in a posh hotel in London, dressed in a white blouse that strained against her glorious breasts, buttons pulling tightly, and a short pencil skirt that hugged her generous curves. And she was looking up at him with an expression that made his pants feel suddenly and uncomfortable tight.

"Jonathan," he corrected her, trying to keep any recognition from his voice or eyes. "Jonathan Pine. No one has called me Jack since my grandfather died decades ago."

"Forgive me," she said, face flushing, but managing to do a fair job of nonchalance. "You reminded me of someone for a moment. You said the Emperor's Suite Mr. Burdge? Ah, yes, here we are. Jonathan Pine. Of course."

"You will have to forgive Miss Tyler, Pine," Charles said to him. "She's still new. We stole her from a resort on the coast. Absolutely wasted there, looking after local riffraff. Anyone can see from looking at her she was made for better things." 

The way Charles was looking at her left Jonathan with little doubt what the man thought she was made for, and his fist itched to knock the leer from his face. Not that he could blame the man. His own cock had leapt to attention at the mere sight of her. His erotic fantasy girl conjured as if by his thoughts.

"Here's your key, Mr... Pine is it? Top floor penthouse. Will you be needing anything? Reservations, tickets?"

"Not at the moment, miss Tyler, thank you," he was unsure what he was trying to communicate to her as his eyes locked on hers, "I will let you know if anything comes up."

He tried not to blush as much as she did at his unfortunate choice of words. Too late for that, he thought. That ship had already sailed, mast fully raised.

"We are at your service, sir," she smiled blandly at him, eyes a riot of unasked questions. "Don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

"Isn't she tempting little morsel?" Charles asked as they made their way to the elevator. "What I wouldn't give to have her for a night or two!"

Jonathan didn't say anything as his jaw clenched in fury. He would be damned if Charles ever laid so much as a finger on his Annie! Not that she was his, or that he had any right to say who laid anything on her. Damn, but he could not afford this! He had to concentrate, to be at his winning best! He could not afford to be distracted by lust when the stakes were this high!

A cold shower and quick fuck of his fist later, Jonathan was no closer to cooling his thoughts of the ultimate temptation downstairs. It was still two hours before he was to meet the owners in the bar for drinks and dinner, perhaps a swim would clear his head. Grabbing his trunks from his suitcase, he headed for the hotel pool. A few laps should work out some of the tension he was feeling. 

He was just completing fifty laps in the otherwise empty pool when the door to the room swung open. Flipping over onto his back to float, Jonathan quietly watch as the bane of his existence entered with a fellow employee in a white shirt and black vest. Annie had a clipboard in her hand and was speaking in her sweet voice as she pointed out things to the man.

"We need to make sure that this bar is stocked as well," she said, indicating the swim-up bar. "Charles wants there to be alcohol flowing tonight, to loosen things up for the investment opportunity. I don't know if they'll be coming in here, but just in case bring up some of the top shelf scotch and reserve cellar wine. Also, we'll want to make sure maid service does a once over in about an hour, then close it for the night unless the vips want to come in."

Annie's eyes did a quick scan of the room, freezing only momentarily when they saw him floating in the water. She quickly collected herself and smiled at her employee.

"That will be all, Tom. Thank you. I'm just going to take advantage of the quiet here for a moment before going back downstairs. You know how Charles gets when he's nervous, and I need to think if there's anything I missed."

"Of course. See you downstairs," the man smiled at her and exited the room.

Annie waited for a moment, and then crossed to the pool, sitting down beside it and kicking off her shoes to let her toes dip into the water. Silently, Jonathan flipped back over and swam over to where she sat, arms coming up on either side of her legs.

"Annie," he said, not knowing how to begin.

"So you remember," she smiled uncertainly. "I thought you did, but I wasn't sure."

"Of course I remember," he growled. "That was not something a man was likely to forget."

"It was some time ago," she shrugged, "and I daresay you have met any number of people since then... Mr. Pine."

"Annie, I can explain," he began, wondering what he could possibly say.

"There's no need," she interrupted him. "Honestly Jack... Jonathan. That's what I wanted to tell you. You have nothing to explain to me. You were straight with me from the beginning that it was to be no strings attached, just sex."

"Good sex," he corrected, using her words from that night.

"Good sex," she agreed, blushing becomingly. "And you delivered on that. You even let me stay afterwards, to sleep. I hadn't been expecting that. And your note was very kind. I have no hard feelings Ja-Jonathan, and no expectations. You have nothing to worry about from me."

With a nod, she stood up and slipped quickly into her shoes. He stared at her for a moment as he listened to her heels clicking on the tile floor, watched her hips sway enticingly, and then he was vaulting himself out of the pool.

"Annie, wait!" he commanded, just as her hand reached the door handle.

"Yes?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Does that lock?" he asked, eyes going to the door.

Wordlessly she turned the lock. The next moment she was pressed up against the wall, Jonathan's wet body hard against her as her kissed her with passion that had been building since the moment he saw her. Her clipboard clattered to the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers raking through his damp hair. He grabbed one of her legs and lifted it around his waist, her skirt riding up her silky thighs. Leaving her lips for her arched neck, Jonathan moved his free hand to her breasts, fondling them through her tight white top. He desperately wanted to rip the buttons open and free her magnificent tits, but he had just enough sense left to unbutton the top three instead.

"I have dreamed of this," he groaned, slipping his hand inside. "Dreamed of how you felt, how you tasted."

"So have I," she panted, arching into his touch. "Oh, god Jack, so have I."

"I am going to fuck you so hard," he growled, lifting her up and carrying her over to the bar. 

He set her down, pushing her legs wider so that her skirt bunched around her waist. With glittering eyes he reached down and tore the thin elastic of her panties, tossing them aside as they came off in his hand. She gasped as he bent down and examined her glistening pussy, all wet and puffy with arousal. Smirking, he leaned in and licked a long stripe up to her clit, flicking his tongue when he reached it.

"I would love to eat you for hours," he purred against her folds as she moaned, "but right now I have more pressing urges. I need to feel that tight little cunt of yours around my cock. Now."

"Please," she begged, "please yes."

"Please yes what?" he asked as he pushed down his trunks.

"Please yes fuck me," she whined, spreading her legs wider.

"Well, since you ask so nicely," he grinned wolfishly and buried his cock inside her with one hard thrust.

They moaned together as he bottomed out, and he took a moment to revel in how good it felt to be inside her once more. Her legs wrapped around him, and he pulled her to the edge of the bar as he began fucking her with a ferocity he had only known with her. He kissed her skin anywhere he could find it, fingers gripping hard into the soft flesh of her ass. Her own hands scraped down his back, desperate to hold on for dear life.

"You are so fucking perfect," he told her as he rutted into her. "Such the perfect whore for me. I am going to fucking ruin you, do you understand me? You will not be able to walk or speak by the time I leave here, but you will be so fucking satisfied. Do you want that? Tell me. Tell me you are mine to ruin."

"Yes," she cried out as his hand went to her clit. "Yes, I want you to ruin me. Fuck me. Oh god, please just fuck me!"

"Then cum for me like a good little cock slut," he growled, biting her neck.

She was all too ready to obey, and he felt her clench down around him, pulling him in even further as she screamed into his neck. It took only a handful of feral, sloppy thrusts more before he spilled himself into her, loosing himself in the bliss of his orgasm. His body folded over hers as he lay her back on the bar, and he kissed her gently over her navel.

Her white shirt was almost see through from his wet embrace, and her panties were ruined. The less said about her now wayward curls the better, but Jonathan thought he had never seen a more beautiful woman than Annie at that moment. 

"It's a good thing I keep a change of clothes in the office," she laughed shakily as he helped her off the bar and to her feet. "I am hardly fit for work like this."

"No," he agreed. "Only I get to see you like this. You are mine this weekend, you agreed to it."

"I did, didn't I?" her eyes were glassy and she seemed a bit dazed, but Jonathan was not about to give up this advantage.

"Go back to the office and change, but you will not put on new panties and you will not wash my cum off your thighs. I want to smell myself on you when you come near."

"Yes sir," she whispered, making his cock improbably twitch again.

"This is damn inconvenient, Annie, but damn it, I am glad regardless."

"So am I," she said softly.

"Jonathan," he told her, bringing her hand to his lips for a tender kiss. "Jonathan Pine. That's my real name by the way. Someday I'll tell you why I wasn't using it when we first met."

"I would like that, Jonathan."

God, but he loved the way his name sounded when she said it. It was going to be tempting fate, but he would risk it. For the way this woman made him feel, he would risk anything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Jonathan has found Annie again, he cannot keep his hands off her. Can he find a way to satisfy his urges and still keep his determination to not become attached?

Annie made a bee line down to the office on the 3rd floor, holding her clipboard clasped against her chest to hid the dampness. The dampness between her legs was much harder to disguise. He had pocketed her torn underwear, taking a sniff of them before slipping them into his inside breast pocket. It had sent a new wave of arousal down to her core, adding to the mess that was already between her legs.

This was not her, she tried to tell herself as she quickly changed into a new skirt and blouse, glancing down neurotically to check if you could see the sticky trail down her thigh. The relationships she had had all been with sweet, insecure men who made her feel safe. They needed her, and if she had never felt a passion for any of them, well, she had felt a satisfaction knowing that she had left them more sure of themselves, more confident than when she found them.

Jack had been different. Different from everyone.

From the kind men who she befriended and eventually fell into half hearted relationships with, but also from the assholes who circle about her like flies. It never seemed to fail that where ever she went she attracted such men. Braggarts who saw her as a conquest, flattered her, made promises they had no intention of keeping. Annie had no time for them, could see them coming a mile away.

It had been just that sort who had been hitting on her the night Jack had sauntered over and told her they would be sleeping together. Never in a million years would she have thought she would say yes to such a command... but still. There had been no games. No promises or lies. Just the promise of good sex, and he had delivered in spades, bringing out a part of her she had no idea existed.

She had been unable to put that night out of her mind ever since. Waking up to a surprisingly tender note, she had crept out of the pub never to return. She didn't want to see him not there. Soon after she moved to the nearby tourist village and took a job at a resort. She was naturally good at it, being one ever on the lookout for the well being of others. She rose at lightening speed to manager, where she was discovered Mr. Burdge.

She knew he wanted to bed her, it was easy enough to see, but Annie had other ideas. With skill honed over the years she had kindly rebuffed his advances and instead landed a job at La Palais, the super posh London Hotel. If she didn't quite fit into the pretentious surroundings, her basic likability was enough to help her win the support of her coworkers. The fact that Charles Burdge still had a crush on her only made her job more secure, if occasionally less pleasant. Life was happy again. Uncomplicated.

All that was upended with _his_ arrival. The moment she had seen him swaggering towards her she was lost. He was dressed differently, an exquisitely tailored suit replacing the leather jacket and jeans she remembered. But it was still him. The ice blue eyes and sun kissed hair were exactly the same, as were the beautiful planes of his sculpted face. 

Since that moment she had been caught in a sea of lust. The desire she felt for him, the pure, feral need, took her breath away. She could still feel him now with a deep ache where he had stretched her, but she already felt empty and longed for him again. How she was going to get through a weekend of this she didn't know. How she would survive when he left was an even more troubling thought.

***

He could see her out of the corner of his eye as he sat at the high-top table in roof bar, slowly swirling the glass of single malt in his hand while he pretended to listen to his hosts. Michael and Gabriella Stent were just as dull as he had been led to expect. Wealthy, prudish sticklers for propriety who cared only for their empire and their reputation. La Palais, designed by Charles, was the jewel in their garish crown, as they repeatedly assured him. They were prohibitively exclusive in their clientele, and only worked with impeccable collaborators. It all made for rather dull conversation.

Far more interesting to Jonathan was whatever conversation was going on at a table not far away, where a young couple were talking animatedly with a curly headed employee. He could just hear her musical voice, though the words were unclear, and it sent a shiver of want through him. He longed for nothing more than to excuse himself, grab her caveman style, and carry her to his suite where he could do all sorts of filthy things to her.

"Miss Tyler!" Charles called out her name, startling Jonathan out of his fantasy.

He took a long drink of his scotch to hide his smirk as she walk towards them, a slight hitch in her stride. He had not gone easy on her that afternoon. When she reached their table, Jonathan could not resist raising his eyes to hers and inhaling deeply. Ah, there it was. The smell of sex, of the two of them, lingered on her, and instinctively his cock swelled at it.

"Good evening sir," she smiled, a slight red tinting her cheeks. "I hope you are all enjoying yourselves."

"Very much, Annie," Charles smiled a too warm smile. "Every thing has been excellent. Gabriella, this is the new manager I was telling you about. Miss Annie Tyler. She has introduced some excellent moral building ideas to the staff. Annie, my partners, Gabriella and Michael Stent. And of course you met Pine earlier today."

"It's an honor to meet you," she smiled at the couple who nodded coldly before her eyes finally, almost reluctantly turned to Jonathan. "I hope everything has been to your satisfaction as well, Mr. Pine."

"Indeed it has, Miss Tyler," he smiled at her. "I had a particularly enjoyable time in your pool facilities this afternoon. It was just the thing to work out a bit of frustration. I only hope I am equally satisfied in other areas this weekend."

"Well, I'm sure Annie will do everything in her power to see to it that is the case, won't you Annie?" Charles asked with a wink at her, causing her blush to deepen.

"It would be my pleasure," she managed to get out. "Now, if you would excuse me, I have to check the supply room for some more single malt. Enjoy your night."

"An excellent addition to the staff," Charles sighed as he watched her hips sway as she walked away. 

"I don't know, she seems a bit... provincial," Gabriella sniffed. "I prefer the more cool, classical types to these overly friendly girls."

"Forgive me, I will be right back," Jonathan said suddenly, standing. "Call of nature."

"Of course," Michael nodded.

Tracking the direction Annie had gone, Jonathan jogged down a back staircase and saw her opening a door in the hall and stepping inside. Quick as a thought he followed her inside and shut the door behind him.

"Jonathan!" she squeaked, spinning to see him leaning against the door.

"You smell delectable," he purred, eyes hooding as he raked them over her body. "Are you still wet Annie?"

"Yes," she said, a mere whisper. 

"Show me," he ordered, rubbing his palm over the bulge in his pants.

"You're supposed to be at dinner," she demurred.

"I am," he nodded. "But how am I supposed to concentrate on eating when the sight of you has me this hard? Now, I believe I told you to show me how wet you were."

Slowly, Annie reached up under her skirt with one hand. When she brought it back out again, she held up fingers glistening with slick. Jonathan grabbed her wrist and brought her fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean one by one.

"Far better than the scotch," he told her. 

"Jonathan..."

"Turn around and bend over."

Eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and excitement, Annie followed his instructions, bending over the boxes that leaned against the wall behind where she had been standing.

"Good girl," Jonathan praised, raising up her skirt to reveal her naked ass. "And you obeyed me about the knickers. Excellent, my good, filthy little slut."

He massaged her ass hard with his large hands, loving the feel of her flesh. He knew he was bound to leave a mark, couldn't wait to see it when he did. On that thought, he suddenly lifted one of his hands slapped hard onto her rear, making her cry out and quickly muffle it. A flower of red appeared, warm and inviting. Grinning, he repeated the motion on her other cheek.

"Gorgeous," he smirked. "It was just dying for my hand prints. Now, spread you legs sweetheart."

Annie didn't hesitate, widening her stance. Jonathan ran his hands up her inner thighs, feeling his cum still sticky dry there. She had followed that instruction too, not washing him off her skin but going about her job with his seed still painting her, free to trickle out when she moved. It drove him over the edge. With a growl deep in his chest, Jonathan unzipped his pants and pulled out his heavy, angry cock. Lining himself up he slowly pushed inside of her, wanting her to feel every inch of him as he impaled her.

"That's it," he urged, working his way deep, "take it all. I want to feel you against my balls. That's my good little whore."

Annie moaned as he sheathed himself, and he reached around to cover her mouth with one hand.

"Careful love," he warned her, beginning to thrust inside her. "Your bosses are only a short distance away. You don't want them to hear what a dirty girl they have working for them, do you? Letting me fuck you from behind in the supply closet, bent over to service me?"

Annie shook her head, unable to speak as his big hand covered her mouth. When she had herself back under control, he allowed his hand to drop, dipping into her top to grope at her tits while he fucked her senseless from behind. She was biting her lip, mere whimpers breaking free before she bit them back. God, she was fantastic, he thought, pushing back against him, taking him even deeper with each thrust.

"You were made for this, you know that don't you? Made to take my cock? To be filled with my cum until you can't hold any more? Everything about you just screams out to be fucked hard by someone who knows how. And that's me. I can feel you tightening around me. You're desperate to cum. Aren't you?"

"Yes," she gasped out, breathing frantic as he rammed faster into her. "Yes, please. Please Jonathan, make me cum."

"Do it then, my beautiful whore," he chuckled, one hand going around her throat while the other dropped to play with her clit. "Cum on my cock like a good slut."

As he squeezed gently to limit her air, Annie's body arched and spasmed, barely bit back scream dying to a whimper as she came hard around him. Jonathan groaned long and low as he felt himself climax, filling her again with another load of cum. Breathless, he folded over her, releasing her throat and running his hand gently down her cheek in a show of tenderness.

"Such a good girl," he cooed softly into her ear, kissing around the shell of it while they each came down from their high. "So beautiful for me. God, you are perfect."

It took all of his will power to straighten up and step away from her, his softening cock sliding out of her drenched pussy. He looked down at the sight she made, flushed and on display for him, and felt a wave of affection take him over. She really was beautiful, inside and out.

After a moment Annie stood, legs shaky beneath her, and tried to straighten out her clothes. Jonathan, ever the gentleman, stepped forward to do up the buttons of her shirt that he had managed to free, and she shyly smiled up at him, biting her lip again. Unable to resist, he leaned forward and kissed her lips tenderly, luxuriating in the sweetness.

"I do not deserve you," he said at last, smiling at her glazed expression.

"I don't mind," she answered with a rueful chuckle.

"You are sure?" he asked, suddenly anxious at all the liberties he had taken. "Annie, I know I said that I was laying claim to you for the weekend, but if you have any misgivings..."

"Have you tired of me then?" she asked, a slight hint of expectant disappointment in her voice. "I would understand."

"Not even close," he growled, since of control surging back as he grabbed her around the waist and kissed her again, hard this time. 

"Very well then," she smiled and said in a breathless voice.

"What time do you finish work?"

"Eleven."

"Very well. At 11:15 I expect you in my room. You will enter, strip naked, and drop to your knees. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir," she nodded, swallowing hard.

"Good girl. Now, I have an interminable meeting to attend."

"But they are such interesting conversationalists," she grinned.

"Cheeky girl," he chuckled, smacking her ass. "I'll put that clever tongue to better use later. Now go, before they get suspicious. If I am to invest in this monstrosity, it had better come with you in it!"

Now what on earth had made him say that, he thought as he watched her exit with two bottles of expensive scotch. This was supposed to be a weekend fling, nothing more. He knew better than to get attached. It was just sex. Good - no, mind blowing - sex, but nothing more. No matter how much he liked the sound of her laugh or the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan waits for Annie to arrive for more adventures. What starts as a night of carnal indulgence becomes something more the next morning.

Jonathan sat at the small table in his hotel suite, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up to bare his forearms, trying to concentrate on the financial report spread out before him. It was not working. All he could think about was the woman who any minute now would be walking through his door and offering her sweet body once more for his lecherous use. Assuming, of course, that she was coming. It was possible that her good sense had reasserted itself (he had the distinct feeling she was normally a level headed woman) and she had chosen to go home rather than subject herself to his filthy attentions once again. The thought upset him more than the loss of a casual hook up should or ever had before.

Annie though... Annie was not the ordinary casual hook up. She was his perfect match, in body, in passion, and if his instincts were correct, instincts he lived by, she might also be his perfect match in much, much more.

He could hear the ticking of his watch, and it echoed loudly in his pulse. Was she coming? Was he truly destined to be that lucky? After all that he had done, would he be allowed this?

There was a soft knock and then the door handle moved with a slow click. Jonathan's breath caught in his throat as the door pushed open and quickly shut again behind the wide eyed woman who hesitantly entered his rooms. A smile of triumph and appreciation spread across his face as she stopped a few feet from him, a question in her gaze. Remembering what exactly he had told her, he nodded briefly and saw her eyes close for a moment before she began unbuttoning her blouse with trembling fingers.

Jonathan ran his hand over his quickly growing erection as Annie removed and carefully folded her top and skirt, placing them neatly on a chair near the entry way. Her bra soon followed, leaving her naked to his gaze for the first time since their initial coupling all those months ago. He brazenly looked her up and down, noting the flush in her cheeks as he did so. God, she was gorgeous. Shapely and soft with ample curves for him to fondle and feast on. Her eyes locked on his, submission in their depths, and she sunk to her knees in the center of the room.

"Very good, Annie," he praised her, voice rough with desire. "You follow orders remarkably well. Now, open your pretty mouth so that I can give you your reward."

Her tongue licked her lips enticingly before they parted, and he just suppressed groaning aloud at the sight. Standing up and noting how his pants tented, Jonathan made himself walk slowly over to stand in front of her. He wanted to savor this, to enjoy every last moment of anticipation and control.

"Go ahead, pretty one," he told her, stroking her hair in appreciation.

Annie reached out and undid his zipper, and he allowed her to push his dress pants down past his arse. Taking a deep breath she wet her lips once more and leaned forward, tongue tracing a line up the underside of his hard cock. To his intense pleasure, he saw her hands go behind her back and clasp each other before her mouth descended onto him. She remembered then. Excellent. When they had done this before he had chided her for using her hands, insisting that she use her mouth only. That mouth, so wet and warm, slid down around him now, and he moaned as his cock found a home in it. She bobbed up and down, struggling to take him, gagging occasionally. The feeling of her choking around him was arousing in and of himself, but he wanted more.

"You are talented, my love," he purred as her tongue swirled around his head. "With a little practice I think we can get turn you into a first rate cock slut. Just imagine, feeling me all the way down that pretty little throat of yours. I know I have."

He could not decipher the noise she made at his praise, but the look that she flashed him was hot and wanting. God, he wanted to shove himself hard down her throat. To fuck her face until he made her gag.

"I have an idea," he said, stepping back and sliding out of her protesting mouth. "Don't worry, love, I'm not done with that pretty face yet."

Picking her up with ease, Jonathan carried her over to the bed and dropped her down unceremoniously on her back.

"Lie down with you head hanging off the end," he instructed her, quickly shucking off his clothes while she obeyed his instructions. "That's it. This should make it easier on both of us."

Walking back over to her, he smiled at her upside down, confused look before shoving his cock back into her mouth.

"You see?" he asked smugly as he pressed deep into her. "This opens up your throat, lets me take you deep. By the time I'm done, my balls will be snug against you cute little nose. Would you like that?"

Annie made a little whimpering noise that he took for assent and Jonathan smiled. Her tongue was doing all it could to add to his pleasure as he thrust in and out of her, desperate for the feel. His eyes feasted on her body, laid out before him like a vision. An idea struck him and he smiled down at her.

"Annie," he instructed around his grunts and moans, "I want you to touch yourself for me. Show me what you did all these months when you thought about me."

She was shy at first, fumbling with her hands as they made their way down her body. He knew she was not normally promiscuous, no matter how much he might like to call her a slut. She would not be used to someone watching her masterbate. The knowledge made it even more satisfying when she began to gingerly open her thighs and stroke her cute little pussy. Her mouth slackened a little around him, but he didn't care. He was past teasing now, wanting instead to fuck her mouth, slide over her velvety wet tongue. Between the sight of her fingers finding their rhythm through her cunt to match his thrusts, the smell of her arousal, the sounds of her muffled cries, and feel of her hollowed cheeks around him, his senses were on overdrive. 

"That's it, my little whore," he grunted, feeling his balls begin to tighten. "Suck me dry while you fuck your fingers for me. You are the most perfect fuck toy a man could ask for. I am going to fill you with cum until you drown in it, and you are going to drink it all, do you hear me? That's it, keep your throat open for me. I want as far down as you can take it."

With a deafening groan, Jonathan pressed into her mouth and emptied, filling her throat as he had promised. He felt Annie convulse around him, but she obeyed him once more, struggling to swallow all he gave her. Realizing that she must be uncomfortable, he regretfully pulled out of her mouth leaving her panting in his absence. She lay on the bed, legs spread, eyes teary, looking utterly used and gorgeous and he felt a savage surge of ownership deep within him.

"You are mine, do you hear me?" he growled, lunging onto the bed and dragging her by her ankles until her head was securely on the mattress. "You, Annie Tyler, belong to me and me alone. Say it."

Annie stared at him for a moment, as if confused at what he was saying, and then her head nodded twice convulsively.

"Yes, Jonathan," she answered, voice hoarse from his use of her. "Yes, I belong to you."

"Damn right," he swore, and like a man long starved he dove into her pussy, tongue ravenous for the taste of her. 

She was already wet, dripping in fact, and Jonathan eagerly lapped at it all, wanting to gorge on her juices. His nose played against her clit as he plunged his tongue into her cunt, causing her to writhe on the bed. One strong arm rose with a snarl to press her back into the mattress, keeping her still so that he could continue to dine on her. His other hand more skillfully replaced his nose to torment her bundle of nerves, driving her quickly into an intense orgasm. He continued to tongue fuck her through it, greedily drinking up her release and eager for more. She whined softly as she realized that he had no intention to stop and raised his head to look at her flushed and gasping face.

"I'm not done yet," he informed her in a voice that brooked no contradiction. "You will lie there and take every orgasm I give you until I decide that I have had enough. Is that clear?"

Annie whimpered again, but nodded when he only stared at her.

"Good girl," he smiled evilly. "Now, let's see how many times I can make your cute little pussy cum, shall we?"

In the end, he managed to drag three orgasms out of her before deciding that he had pushed her as far as he dared for tonight. She was not used to such intense handling, hell, he was not used to it himself! He didn't want to scare her off, not when there was so much more he wanted from her.

Everything, he thought. He wanted everything from her. The thought should have terrified him, but it only made him pull her possessively to his side and hold her there while he slowly stroked her exhausted body and whispered praises into to her.

"What time do you have to work tomorrow, Annie love?" he asked quietly as they began to drift towards sleep.

"Not until night," she answered drowsily. "I have the graveyard shift. I am yours for the day, if you want me."

"You are mine for as long as I want," he reminded her, but with tenderness. "And I very much want, Annie. Very much indeed."

"Good," she smiled, and drifted towards sleep.

***

When he woke up the next morning, Jonathan felt the twin sensations of being completely at piece, and yet hard with insistent arousal. How both could exist at once was a mystery, but certainly had something to do with the woman snuggled warm against his chest, spooning nicely into his body. His hand roamed over her body with a will of its own, luxuriating in the feel of her supple skin. She made a little cooing noise as his fingers ran down her side, and it went straight to his heart. She sounded so trusting, so receptive to him.

Unable to resist, Jonathan used his leg to separate hers and gently pressed his cock head against her over used opening. Annie moaned softly in her sleep, but her body pressed back into his. He decided this was a good sign, and slowly thrust forward, smug that she was still wet enough to let him enter her with ease. He kept still once he was sheathed within her loving the way her walls gripped so tightly around him. One of his hands toyed with her nipple, rolling it into a hard nub and enjoying how her body responded against him.

"Jonathan," she said on an exhaled breath.

"What do you want, my love?" he asked her, kissing her hair.

"Make love to me," she murmured in a sleepy voice.

"I would love to," he smiled. 

Sliding gently out of her, he rolled her over and climbed on top, caging her in with his body. She had asked him to make love to her, not to fuck her, and he intended to do just that. Leaning down, he kissed her tenderly, exploring her mouth with more leisure than he had allowed himself before. Her hands found their way around him, and he shuddered at her touch as it ran down his back. Trailing his lips down the column of her neck, he whispered to her how beautiful she was, how sweet and kind. When at last he pressed forward to enter her again, her body once more admitted him eagerly. Jonathan rose up on his forearms, wanting to watch the play of emotions over her face as he took her. Her eyes were half closed, head back, hair wild on his pillow. His name, sounding like a prayer, repeated itself from her lips.

"I have never seen anything so beautiful," he told her truthfully, "of felt anything good."

"Me either," she smiled at him, eyes opening to meet his. 

Jonathan felt his pulse race at the look she gave him, and blood began to scream for more. He lifted her legs from the bed and she quickly wrapped them around him, gasping as he began to graze over her clit. Willing himself to last, he held of his quickly approaching climax. He needed to make sure she finished before he did, would give everything he had to last until she came. He began to doubt his own willpower when her body tightened beneath him, bowing off the bed as his name rang out loudly into the room. It was the final nail in his coffin, and Jonathan released into her, Annie's name entwined with a string of curses in the ultimate term of endearment.

"Would you like some breakfast?" he asked some time later as she lay with her head on his chest.

"That would be nice," she answered. "The kitchen here is actually quite good. It's one of our best selling points."

Her voice sounded odd to his ears, distant compared to how it had been before. He didn't care for it one bit.

"What do you recommend?" he asked, trying to ignore the feeling.

"I don't know," she laughed. "I have no idea what you like. For breakfast I mean. You could be allergic to eggs for all I know."

Jonathan lay quietly, trying to decipher the moment. There was a tension in her body now, in addition to her voice.

"Eggs," he told her quietly. "I like eggs. Bacon, beans, toast, the full English breakfast if they have it. After all, we did work up quite an appetite."

"We did," she smiled mechanically.

"And you?" he asked, keeping his voice light. "What does Annie Tyler eat for breakfast?"

"Not much usually," she told him. "Coffee and something I can take on the go."

"How about today?"

"I don't know."

"Annie," unable to ignore her strangeness any more, Jonathan sat partially up, forcing her to do the same and look at him. Her eyes, though, remained lowered. "Annie what is wrong? Talk to me."

"Nothing," she smiled overly bright.

"Annie, I know what I said last night, and this morning, but please, love. I know that I have no real claim on you. If you want to walk out the door and never see me again... well, I won't like it, but there's nothing I can do to stop you."

Won't like it was a hideous understatement. Jonathan felt in that moment that if Annie were to leave him he would not survive. Putting aside the passion of the night before, and that was _a lot_ to put aside, what they had shared this morning was something even more. He had opened himself, made himself vulnerable emotionally in a way he rarely if ever did. Watching her eyes as she came undone beneath him had been an almost religious feeling for him.

"We both said a lot of things," she worried at the blanket. "Things probably best not said."

"What do you mean?"

"When I asked you to... well, I know that I have no right. That is, we both know what our arrangement is. No strings, no feelings. Just great sex."

"Is that what you want?" he asked, uncomfortable with the idea.

"It doesn't matter what I want," she sighed, eyes suspiciously bright. "It's how things are."

"It matters to me what you want. It matters a great deal. And what about what I want?"

"Please, don't feel you have to be kind," she dashed her hand across her eyes. "I never expected to see you again after that first night, so these last two days have been a lovely bonus. And if you still want me for the rest of the weekend, well, that would be even more than I hoped. But I knew from the get go that Jack Linden was not a man to settle down with."

"But I'm not Jack Linden," he said, cursing his complicated past.

"Aren't you?" 

"I was," he admitted. "And you are right, that man who took you up to his room above the pub was not a man to be tied down. There were reasons. Important reasons. He needed to be unencumbered, ruthless in everything."

"And now?"

"Now I am Jonathan again, whatever that means. I've never really known myself."

Annie looked at him with such warry compassion in her eyes, that it undid him. As much as he knew he should hold back, should spare her the sordid details of his past, it all came pouring out. The affair with Sophie and her brutal murder in Cairo, meeting Roper in Zurich, Angela Pine and her plan to recruit him into the scheme to take down the worst man in the world. And then the mission itself. How he had traded away all he was, risked his life, his name, and his very soul to make the world a safer place. Annie listened intently to everything he said, silently taking in the story. From time to time she would reach out and touch him, lightly soothing him through the worst of the memories.

When he finally reached the end, he realized that tears were running down his face. Annie drew his head down and kissed them, her own eyes watery. He didn't know exactly why he wept. He only knew that he had been holding it all in, all that tension, for so long, that letting it out was a physical sensation. He was grateful that she didn't speak right away, gave him time instead to sit with the past, and to begin to move on from it.

"You have been through so much," she said at last. "More than anyone should have to endure."

"I did my duty," he said with a shrug.

"I must seem so small to you."

"You seem like a prayer," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

After a brief hesitation, Jonathan grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand. With a touch of a few icons, he pulled up a picture and handed her the phone. Annie's eyes widened as she looked down at the picture. It was her, of course. He had taken it the morning he left her without a goodbye. She was curled up in his bed above the pub, a dull white sheet preserving her modesty in the way it draped across her, but still allowing most of her delicious body to be seen. Her hair was a halo around her pretty head, and a peaceful smile tilted her lips as she slept.

"I know I had no right to take this," he told her, smiling fondly at the photo, "but I couldn't resist. You looked like a fallen angel, there in my bed. You had just given me the best night of my life, right before I had to depart for the most dangerous mission. I wanted something to bring with me, a talisman of the good I was fighting for when the world got dark. That was you, Annie. You were my guardian angel."

"I'm not an angel, Jonathan," she told him.

"No, thank god," he grinned. "You are a woman. Very, very much a woman. Kind, giving, smart, and more desirable than any I have ever known."

"But you don't know me."

"It is my job to know people," he argued. "To trust my instincts. My life, and the life of countless others, has depended on it. And from the moment I first saw you in that dingy little pub my instincts have been screaming one thing at me. I want you, Annie. Not just for a night, or a weekend, though I will take what I can get. I want to know you. To know every inch of you, mind, body, and soul. When you asked me this morning to make love to you - that is what all this fuss has been about, yes? When you asked me that, it didn't scare me, didn't make me want to run. Quite the contrary, it was as if you were asking me to breath, or even more to eat chocolate. To do something that my body was not only made to do, but craved. I want to make love to you, Annie. And I want fuck you senseless into the mattress, and to make you kneel, and god knows what other things my filthy brain will come up with for you. But what it all comes down to is that I want you. If, that is, I have not scared you off."

Jonathan's heart was in his mouth as she silently weighed his words. He needed, desperately needed, her to say yes. It was as though his life were paused, his heart unable to beat until she gave her consent. In torment, he hung on what her next words would be.

"Pancakes," she said, confounding him completely.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I want pancakes. For breakfast. And then I think we should take a long bath. After all, I am not naive enough to believe the syrup with not end up in places other than on the breakfast. You see, I feel I know you too, Jonathan."

As he watched a smile light up her face, Jonathan's spirits soared.

"You mean?"

"I do. I want you too. Could you doubt it?"

"I did," he admitted. "But I will make sure you never regret it."

Grabbing her with no finesse at all, Jonathan proceeded to kiss her senseless and Annie was more than willing to allow it. When he began to explore her body with needy hands, however, she pulled back.

"Breakfast first!" she insisted, laughing breathlessly. "I need my strength replenished."

"In that case," Jonathan smirked, picking up the menu from the bed stand, "I think pancakes, and a full English, and a rasher of bacon, and waffles, and home fries..."

He was still listing off items as Annie began hitting him with the pillow. Breakfast didn't come first after that, but she didn't mind one bit.


End file.
